Wonder Woman and Superman in A View From Diana's Gallery
by NWHS
Summary: This story is told from three different perspectives: Zola's, Hera's and Lennox's. Ever wondered what "Diana's Gallery" really think of Diana and their relationship with her and each other? If so, this is that story. (New 52)
1. Chapter 1: Zola

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:**

This story is told from three different perspectives: Zola's, Hera's and Lennox's. Ever wondered what "Diana's Gallery" really think of Diana and their relationship with her and each other? If so, this is that story. This is also a sequel, of sorts, to "Leaps and Bounds." It takes place concurrently and will give the reader a different glimpse into WW and SM. Although this fic is a stand-alone read, the chapters are deliberately aligned with the chapters from "Leaps and Bounds." To get a fuller picture, you may want to read or re-read chapter one from "Leaps and Bounds" before reading this one. But don't feel that it's necessary.

**A View From Diana's Gallery**

**Chapter 1: Zola**

Zola sat on her bed, legs crossed, remote control in hand and scrolling the seemingly endless array of Cable stations. Surely, with over two hundred-or maybe three hundred—channels, she could find something worth watching, something that could take her mind off—even for a little while—all that she had lost, all she had never had. With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, Zola settled for Syfy.

The science fiction channel was a good, albeit perhaps odd choice selection for Zola. She liked the show _Being Human_. It starred two sexy guys she could watch for hours. The fact that one was a werewolf and the other a vampire held the greatest appeal for her. _Beats crazed and vengeful gods and goddesses. _So, yeah, maybe Zola should've selected something like the Food Network or Comedy Central. _Because all you do all day is eat and your life is one big, pathetic joke, right?_

But _Being Human_ resonated with Zola in a weird kind of way. Neither the vampire nor the werewolf, or the female ghost, rounding out a unique trio of friends, wants to be in the state they find themselves. They are no longer human, but they haven't quite lost their humanity. They attempt to hold onto their humanity at every turn but are often thwarted by others as well as their own desires and weaknesses. And happiness, no matter how hard they work for it, no matter how desperately they seek it out, remains just out of reach, a tempting pirate's treasure that prove more fiction than fact. _Like the idea that I will ever see my baby again._

Wonder Woman had promised and Zola, on most days, believed it was possible. _And she never lies._ No, Wonder Woman never lied, but she also wasn't all-powerful or invincible. She'd taken a bullet from Hades and nearly ended up as his bride. _All because she was trying to protect me. All because she'd given her word to protect my baby._

Zola turned off the television and stared out her window. London was a far cry from her tiny shack of a cabin. Nearly a year had passed since her life had turned completely upside down. Until then, she'd known nothing of Olympus and the gods who called it home other than what she'd read in some book in school years ago. And, admittedly, Zola had never been the best of students. Sure, she managed a high school diploma, which was more than she could say for many where she'd come from. Yet beyond her little podunk town, a high school diploma didn't mean much or take you far.

The street outside Diana's home was bustling with people – walking to and from only god knew where, oblivious to the much more complicated world in which they lived. Metahumans – good and bad – were a matter of public knowledge. Superheroes like Wonder Woman and the Justice League were needed if not always accepted and appreciated. Zola wondered how those walking by would feel if they knew Wonder Woman lived among them, was so close they could ring her doorbell and she would answer with a welcoming smile on her face.

Zola plopped back onto her bed, eyes going to the bland, white ceiling. She didn't know how Diana managed those sincere smiles of hers or maintained hope in the face of peril and sometimes-even defeat. But she did. And Zola admired the hell out of her for it.

She'd already respected Wonder Woman, long before Hermes had transported her – wearing only panties and shirt – to the foot of Diana's bed. Surprising a sleeping Wonder Woman had nearly caused Zola's death, the heroine startled out of her sleep and going on the offensive, lifting Zola into the air by her throat. And in that timeless moment, Zola knew true fear. In Wonder Woman's eyes was a power that frightened not because of her sheer strength but because of the amount of control behind it. _Controlled power._

Over the next few months, Zola had stared into the eyes of many a god, and none of them had looked back at her with the same kind of control that Diana had in the first waking moment of their meeting. _None of them even tried to control their power. No, they only want more power. Sick, greedy bastards._ Yet Diana only sought peace, only wanted to return to Zola that which had been wrongly taken from her. _So she battles and gets hurt because of me. Her life is in constant danger because of me. I should just leave. If I left, I would take all my troubles with me. Diana would have her peace._

Even when she thought it, Zola knew the lie for what it was. If she left, Diana would know no peace. She would search for Zola, like she was searching for Zola's baby. And if she found Zola dead or hurt, Diana would blame herself. _And what would happen to her self-control? _Because it may have been Wonder Woman who'd initially taken up arms in Zola's defense, but it had been Diana who'd opened her home to a stranger, Diana who clothed, fed, and befriended a girl who'd only ever had herself to rely on, Diana who chased away Zola's nightmares with stories of her mother, sisters and Themyscira.

No, Zola would remain put. For as much as Diana protected her, Zola felt – in a small way – by staying, she protected Diana in return because Diana was more dangerous than the lot of her crazed Olympus family. Unlike them, she risked losing a battle because she refused to unleash all that she was, all that she could be. Like the vampire, werewolf, and ghost from _Being Human_, in the midst of their difference, of their ability to bring death and destruction to all around them, they never forgot what it meant to be human, even when others viewed their kind as anything but. _Diana is human, but she's also so much more. _And it's the _more_ that made her Wonder Woman but it's also what made her an unparalleled force of demigoddess nature. _Not one to be trifled with. Not one to be underestimated._

A soft knock sounded at Zola's door. She sat up in bed. "Come in Diana."

The door opened and Diana slipped inside and closed the door behind her. "How did you know it was me?"

She was dressed in her Wonder Woman uniform, which meant she was going out on business. _Justice League business probably. _And she was, of course, smiling at Zola. Zola returned the smile, unwilling to infect Diana with her depression and longing for what will likely never be. She didn't deserve that, didn't deserve any of this. But she'd accepted the burden; although Zola knew Diana didn't view her as one, and would never use that word to describe their relationship. No, Zola knew Diana thought of her as a friend. A very short friend – and who wasn't compared to the Amazon princess? - but a friend all the same.

"When Lennox knocks it's more like a bang alerting the household to a fire and" – Zola shrugged – "Queen Dethroned never knocks. She just enters as if she owns the place."

"Queen Dethroned?" Diana gave a short laugh. "I guess that's an improvement over Queen Bitch or The Woman Formerly Known as Queen Hera."

Diana shook her head, her black, shiny hair as perfect as ever. Diana was everything Zola was not, which should've made her hate the statuesque beauty. But she didn't. Diana was just too good of a person for Zola to hate simply because Zola was unsatisfied with whom she was and the life choices she'd made. _Like one night stands and not using protection. Diana would never do that. She has far too much respect for herself. _But Zola was capable of growth, of learning from her mistakes. _And if I'm ever lucky enough to get my baby back, I'll be the kind of parent I never had, the kind of mother a child would be proud of and could respect._

"Just don't call Hera that to her face. I really don't want to break up another girl fight, and Lennox is already annoyed with me for leaving him alone with the two of you so often."

"Aww, so the man of stone doesn't like being left on babysitting duty? What a shocker."

"Yeah, well, it's no one's ideal situation. But, for now, it will have to do." There was a subtle shift in Diana's voice. A threat and a promise rolled into one, not directed at Zola, Lennox, or even Hera, but at all those who stand in Diana's path of achieving that "ideal situation."

"Going out to kick some villain ass," Zola joked, but the look on Diana's face said she'd taken Zola's words to heart.

"I'm more than that," she said, more to herself than to Zola.

"I didn't mean—"

"I have monitor duty, which means I won't be back until late tonight. I just thought you should know."

Of course she did, because no matter how much stone Lennox was made from or how hard he would fight to protect her, Zola was ultimately Diana's responsibility. At least that's how the Amazon warrior saw it. And while Zola would like to think their relationship had developed into a mutual friendship, in the end it boiled down to Diana kicking ass on Zola's behalf, one Olympus villain at a time.

"You're not like your family, Diana. That's not what I meant." She couldn't let her leave like this, couldn't allow her to think Zola saw her as a convenient set of fists and nothing more.

"I know I'm not. But sometimes . . ."

"_You're not like them._ You're so much better. Don't ever forget that." Zola hopped from the bed and got right in Diana's space. "Or I'll be the one kicking your ass."

With a hint of a smile, Diana looked down at Zola. "You're kind of small, my friend, but Batman says we should never underestimate our enemy. That it's often the innocent looking ones who pose the greatest danger." Diana stepped closer to Zola. "Are you threatening an Amazon, Zola?"

Lifting her chin, Zola met Diana's stare with her own unflinching gaze. "You bet your sparkling Wonder panties I am."

Diana's mouth fell open, and then she burst into laughter.

So did Zola.

They didn't laugh nearly enough and Diana had such a great sense of humor.

"Maybe I should bring you with me, Batman is recruiting."

Zola pretended to consider that. "What would be my superpower . . . ohh . . . ohh or my code name? All the best heroes have a cool code name."

"Like Wonder Woman?" Diana asked, self-mockingly.

"Well, yeah, I always wanted to ask you about your moniker."

"It's a long story."

"Really?"

"No, not really, just a stupid one I don't have time to share."

She walked towards the door.

"We'll talk in the morning. You have my cell; call if you need me. Try not to stay up late."

"Yes, _Mom_. Just go. I promise not to play with matches while you're gone and burn down the house."

Diana smirked then opened the door. "Smart ass."

"Nag."

"Brat."

Zola thought about that one then conceded with a shrug and a, "True."

Diana glanced back at Zola one last time before leaving, closing the door behind her saying, "Be safe."

Zola got back into bed and switched the television on, feeling better. Diana may have had tons of sisters, but Zola had none. And, in spite of the way they came to be together, Zola and Diana were indeed friends, perhaps even sisters of a sort.

Hours later, Zola awoke to a low beeping sound. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the monitors on the far wall. Dragging herself from the twin bed, Zola moved closer to the four screens. With a purposeful stride, Diana walked across the front lawn and towards the house.

Zola turned away from the monitors, already knowing that in a few more feet, Diana would move in a blaze of red, white, and blue and be inside. She'd tripped the silent alarm on purpose. The way she did every time she stayed out late.

Zola lay back on the bed and considered returning to her own room. The panic room Diana's friend Batman had installed when Zola had come to live with Diana was comfortable but small. The Gotham vigilante had also installed their security system, the one Diana regularly tripped, her way of letting Zola know she was home and she could come out.

This was their secret – a mutual decision to not tell Lennox or Hera. Hera would not care but she would more than likely want her own panic room but Lennox . . . well, Lennox would be offended, probably even a little hurt. As much as Zola trusted and depended on Lennox, she wasn't entirely certain he could protect her when the big bads came calling. Not that she was certain the panic room would protect her either, but she felt safer in it than out when Diana was away at night.

But Zola was far too tired to drag herself back to her room, concluding that she could sleep here the rest of the night and be up and back into her room before Lennox or Hera awoke. Pulling the covers up to her shoulders, Zola fell into a deep sleep only to be startled awake an hour later when the alarm was tripped again.

Running a hand through short, blonde locks, Zola jumped from the bed. Scanning the monitors with wide-awake eyes and a heart pounding a fearful beat, Zola searched for the intruder. A minute later, she was relieved to see Wonder Woman already on the case. Sword in hand, Wonder Woman slowly approached from the rear, the intruder hiding behind a tree and staring at the house.

Zola watched as the intruder turned to face Wonder Woman . . . and began to talk. And she was listening, dropping her sword from where she'd held it to his throat. Even stranger, both Diana and the intruder turned and began making their way towards the house. The man was tall, taller than even Wonder Woman. And he wore a trench coat. But the coat was open, and as he got closer to the house and the floodlights shone down on him, Zola was struck dumb. _Superman. Get the hell out. Superman is on my back lawn. Correction, Superman is coming into my house. What the hell?"_

Zola's eyes flew from one monitor to the next, trying to get a glimpse of the red capped hero. But it was no use. There were no security cameras inside the house. _What should I do? Better question, what is Superman doing here so late? And why did Diana let him in the house?"_

Zola returned to the bed and sat, back against the headboard. If it had been anyone other than Diana, Zola would've thought Superman was here for a booty call. But it was Diana, and Diana didn't do booty calls. _But it is late at night and Diana never has men over. _As far as Zola knew, Diana wasn't even dating anyone. When she wasn't working with the League or searching for Zola's baby, she was at home.

Now that Zola thought about it, that wasn't exactly true. Over the last few months, there had been times when Diana had gotten a call and taken off - no explanation - and returned late. Not that she was required to give them an explanation, but Diana was normally so open about her comings and goings, particularly with Zola. _But not always. Could it be? Could Wonder Woman and Superman . . .?_

It wasn't such an odd idea. They were both freakishly tall and powerful. Both fought on the side of good and had obviously gotten into the good looks line more than once before they were born. They both flew, which, even for Zola, was a stupid reason to hook up with someone. But they had to have tons in common. Yeah, Zola could so see how they could fall for each other. She could also see why they would want to keep it a secret. Well, far be it for Zola to open her mouth and let Diana's game out. Nor would she dare venture from her hiding hole until the Man of Steel left. From what she understood of his powers, the man had super hearing.

Then a burst of giggles came from her before she had a chance to slap a hand over her mouth. _ Man of Steel. _She bet Diana was getting his man of steel right now. Like the panic room, Diana's bedroom was sound proof. Maybe not for someone like Superman, but to the normal ears of Zola, Lennox, and Hera, they never knew what was going on in Diana's room, not even when she worked herself into a sweat exercising. Now, Zola thought with a wicked smile of envy, Diana was probably working up a different kind of sweat.

_You go, girl. Wonder Woman indeed._

**Next: **

**Chapter 2: Hera**


	2. Chapter 2: Hera

**The events in this chapter occur before the second chapter of "Leaps and Bounds."**

**Chapter 2: Hera**

"Someone should go check on 'er. And by someone I mean you, Zola."

"You're her brother, why don't you go check on Diana?"

"You're her friend and a girl to boot. It makes more sense for you to go."

Hera rolled her eyes. The back and forth nonsense between Lennox and Zola had been going on for the larger part of fifteen minutes. She used to hate them both, wanted nothing more than their slow, painful deaths. Once she'd moved in with the brain dead floosy and the stoned-faced fool, her hatred of them intensified and she really wanted to see them dead.

Yet time . . . and mortality had a way of mellowing even the most righteous of misunderstood women. So her hatred had morphed into intense dislike and that had changed into depressed acceptance until she felt only mild annoyance at having her fate and future linked to theirs. It was a most humbling experience. A fate not fit for a queen.

_But I'm no longer a queen, am I? Apollo made sure of that, exiling me from my home, my family and stripping me of all that I was._

She ran a hand down the front of her green silk dress - Hera's favorite color. It was a lovely gown that clung to her every curve, showing her ample bosom to best advantage, and it should have made her feel beautiful, made her stand out above all others. Yet it was just fabric, incapable of creating in Hera all that she'd used to be and would unlikely ever be again.

_No longer Queen Hera, goddess of marriage and women. _

She missed her peacock cloak though, no green silk garment or any other would ever do.

"Perhaps," she said, turning her gaze and body away from the open balcony and the London landscape and onto Zola and Lennox, the duo sitting beside each other on the couch, "I should inquire after Diana."

They stared at her, their wide eyes saying they'd forgotten she'd shared the same room as them, had been privy to their asinine, circular conversation.

Then they looked at each other and burst into the type of mocking laugher Hera neither liked nor appreciated. They were raucous and gauche and she wanted nothing more than to strike them both with the palm of her hand.

It was times like this Hera missed being a goddess. No one dared mock her then. And if they did, the penalty was swift and fitting.

_Like a flogging or the removal of an impertinent tongue._

"I may be made outta stone, but your heart is made of ice." Lennox considered her, his eyes squinting in the midday light streaming in from the open balcony doors. "You're not as frosty as you used to be but you and Diana aren't exactly mates."

Hera glowered at Lennox. Who was he to comment on the state of her heart? Just because she tried to kill him, Zola, and Zola's baby, that didn't make her cold and unfeeling. It was called embracing one's passion. And what would a stone man know of passion? _Of hurt and betrayal that burrowed so deep within a woman's heart it became a living breathing dragon of scorn and revenge that scorched all in its path?_

"Yeah, you're the last person Diana needs to talk to. No offense, Hera, but you lack a little something called empathy."

"And what do you know of empathy, Zola? Where was your empathy when you bedded my husband?"

The girl had the good grace to blush with embarrassment before her face heated red with anger.

"I told you," she gritted out, "I didn't know he was married."

"You also told me it most likely would not have mattered, which means you've knowingly taken married men to your bed before. That makes you both stupid and a whore."

Hera waited for the waif to sputter some human vulgarity at her. Zola knew plenty and wasn't one to hold her tongue. To her surprise, Zola did now. Although her low growling and baring of teeth told Hera the girl was holding on by a thread.

Hera smiled, then frowned when Zola admitted, "It was wrong of me to sleep with married men. I knew it then but I didn't care. I know it now and I'm ashamed. I had little respect for myself back then, which meant I had even less for others."

Zola relaxed back against the cushions of the couch, the anger having drained from her during her bad-girl reformed speech.

Hera watched Zola and waited for her typical snide remark, letting her know she hadn't meant a thing she'd just said. But there was nothing; she was just a small, blonde girl who, when not blustering, was nothing more than a babe.

That simple fact grated. Hera didn't want to view Zola as a victim of Zeus. Like all the others, he'd come to her in the guise of a human male, his godly magic and pheromones making it difficult for most women to resist. Then he would disappear, leaving a child in far too many wombs.

_Children like Lennox and Zola's kidnapped baby. Children like the Amazon Princess._

"I'm sorry," Hera heard the soft voice say. "I never said it before, but I am sorry."

Stunned, Hera could only watch as Lennox draped his arm around Zola's thin shoulders and hugged her. He whispered something in the girl's ear that had her nodding her head and giving a wan smile.

She turned away from them. The scene taking hold of a heart everyone believed to be nonexistent. It wasn't. Of course it wasn't. For if it were, the easy way Zola, Lennox, and Diana interacted with each other wouldn't hurt so much.

She cursed that wretched organ for betraying her, too. Why should she care if they thought her a burden to be born rather than a friend to be hugged, to be trusted?

It shouldn't have.

But it did.

_Damn them both to Tartarus._

While Lennox and Zola spoke quietly to each other, Hera left the living room in search of Diana.

Two minutes later, she stood in front of Diana's closed bedroom door, hand on the knob and ready to push it open.

She paused. Took a deep breath, and knocked.

"Come in."

Hera entered.

Diana glanced up from where she sat on the floor, a myriad of sharp weapons surrounding her.

Hera gulped, reconsidering the wisdom of approaching an armed Diana. Maybe Lennox and Zola were correct. What did she know of empathy? And the unwelcoming way Diana looked up at her did nothing to squelch her fear or firm her resolve.

She closed the door and stepped closer.

"What are you doing?"

"Sharpening my blades."

Of course she was, because that's what all women did on a Saturday afternoon. _She's an Amazon, what did I expect?_

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

There was an angry bite to Diana's tone Hera hadn't heard since the day Diana had brought her home. Back then, a rabid Centaur would've received a more cordial welcoming. Yet Diana had softened toward her. Hera wasn't fool enough to believe the woman actually liked her, but they had settled into a somewhat comfortable co-existence. _And she keeps me in fine gowns and expensive shoes, indulging me if not liking to do so._

Today was different, however. Back were the hostile glares and long silences. Lennox and Zola thought Diana upset. She'd disappeared for hours yesterday and when she'd returned her mood was as foul and as dark as the River Styx. They worried for her; hence, their overlong debate about which of them should seek Diana out. They had every right to be concerned, for Diana, while sensitive, didn't give in easily to melancholia or even unguarded hostility.

And while Lennox and Zola thought Hera the last person to approach an out-of-sorts Diana, she knew herself to be the perfect person. Because Diana's anger, for whatever reason, was subtly directed toward her. They would have realized that if they hadn't been so relieved to see that she had returned.

But Hera had caught the way Diana had glared at her when she'd first entered the house. And she had known, in that indescribable moment, a terror greater than her own mortality. Amazon hatred had glittered in Diana's too blue eyes and the brutal waves of her hardened gaze had slammed into Hera, crashing in with a fierce momentum that nearly sent Hera to her knees.

Then Diana had smiled down at Zola, her stern body relaxing into the bear hug Zola had wrapped her in. But those eyes, they had remained the same.

_The same way she is looking at me now. What have I done to wrong her?_

"The others are worried about you. I thought I would come up to see if there is anything you need."

Diana picked up a short sword, and, not for the first time since entering Diana's lair, Hera questioned her sanity to remain.

She retreated a step.

Diana began sharpening the blade with some kind of grit stone.

"Tell them I'm fine." She gestured with her chin to the door behind Hera. "You can go now."

Hera wanted nothing more than to extricate herself from Diana's volatile presence, but something in the way she reverently sharpened the blade reminded her of someone.

Without moving, Hera watched as Diana silently tended to her weapons, treating each fine piece as if it were a craftsmen's masterpiece. _Hephaestus would be proud._

Then Hera recognized the sword. And while she couldn't be certain, she thought it to belong to Hippolyta. Her eyes shot around Diana's sparsely decorated bedroom, her eyes falling on a marble planter on a windowsill. Inside the planter was a rare plant that only grew on . . . _Themyscria._

Hera's gaze swung back to Diana. She hadn't moved.

_She's been home. No wonder . . ._

Memories flooded her- memories that came far too often in nightmares of regret, nightmares of shame.

She was dressed in her exquisite cloak of peacocks and nothing more. She was hurt and angry and intent on revenge. Hippolyta had betrayed her. Zeus had needed no disguise with the Amazon Queen. He'd come to her as the god he was. Hippolyta had knowingly chosen to lay with him, to cast aside her fidelity to her goddess in exchange for congress with a male who knew not how to be faithful. _Not to me or any other._

"You have offended me," Hera had said to Hippolyta.

Eyes cast down, the betrayer appeared genuinely repentant. It had mattered not to Hera.

"That was never my intention, goddess."

"Respect? Now? Please, Hippolyta . . . after what you've done?"

"I did it to protect my daughter."

Unable to countenance any excuses, Hera had screamed, her rage palpable and all-consuming. "My husband's daughter! My husband's! I am Queen of the Gods . . . The Goddess of Women . . . Ultimately yet, a woman." Her voice had softened but never her heart, her pain. "Your intentions . . . I could care less. It follows a fact, and that's what angers me. Why Hippolyta? Why would you do this to me? To another woman? What did he say to make you love him? What can I do to make him . . ."

The other Amazons had appeared then, practically soundless in their approach. Even at her lowest, Hippolyta still garnered the loyalty of the warrior women. Hera had never known such loyalty, not from her husband or even her children.

And when Hippolyta prostrated herself on her hands and knees before her and asked for Hera's forgiveness, she felt powerful and justified and unaccountably sorrowful.

Stepping around Diana and to the potted plants, Hera fingered one green leaf. She knew this plant well. It prevented conception.

She glanced over her shoulder at a still-seated Diana. The young woman was mourning her loss all over again. And Hera had seen it the first time. From her throne, she'd watched as Diana dropped to her knees and begged her mother for forgiveness. But Hippolyta could no more grant forgiveness than Hera could. _Stone doesn't speak. And a stone heart can't forgive._

Then there was Diana, a woman without a mother.

"_I did it to protect my daughter."_ Hippolyta's words gripped Hera in a vice. She'd also tried to protect her child. _My first born. _But she couldn't keep him. There had been forces bigger than Hera that was at work. _I had to let him go._

But Hippolyta had managed to keep her child, her first and only born. _Because if I had known, I would have killed her. _She knew this to be true. She'd done it before; she tried to do the same to Zola's baby. _But Diana was there to protect her. Always there. But not for her mother. How that must burn. Too late. You were too late to keep me from my revenge._

That thought no longer held the same sweet taste, not when the only remaining Amazon sat on a wooden floor sharpening her dead mother's sword. Even now, even as she probably had the lingering image of her mother turned to stone and sisters turned to snakes in her mind, Diana permitted the woman who'd taken so much from her to remain in her dwelling, to stand behind her and trust she would do her no harm.

That was the kind of woman Hippolyta had raised. Hera had never felt much pride in her own children. They were far too much like her and Zeus. But staring down at Diana, her back erect and hands moving with practiced ease, Hera couldn't help the pride that washed over her.

And guilt.

She knew she should apologize. She owed Diana more than that and knew not how she could return what she'd taken. She should be the one kneeling in supplication to a woman far wiser than she'd ever been in her thousands of years of existence. She knew. She. Knew.

But she couldn't do it.

She couldn't do something as simple, as mortal as apologize. _The way Zola did. Perhaps Lennox is right. My heart must be made of ice._

Turning back to the planter, Hera lifted it into her hands, walked passed Diana, and exited the somber room.

She might not yet know how to apologize, but she did know how to make tea from a plant.

Somewhere there was a man whose affection Diana held in such regard that she'd braved a dead and desolate Themyscria to retrieve the herb. The least Hera could do was help the romance along.

_Maybe, just maybe, Diana and her lover-to-be will get it right. Be better than me. Than Zeus. Than Hippolyta. _

Smiling, Hera walked down the steps, wondering who had captured the Amazon's heart and would soon reap the benefits of her god gifted body.

_Maybe I should contact Eros. Surely, he must know._

**Next:**

**Chapter 3: Lennox**


	3. Chapter 3: Lennox

**The events in this chapter take place after the third chapter of "Leaps and Bounds."**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Lennox**

**Part 1**

Lennox absently listened as Hera and Zola argued over what to watch on the telly. Zola was all in a flutter about some sci fi show Lennox had never heard of and Hera, being Hera, wanted to watch an old American show arrogantly called "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous." He sighed. They made quite the annoying and odd pair. For all of their rocky start, Zola and Hera had actually managed a reasonable coexistence. Diana liked to attribute it to him, but Lennox knew otherwise. He did no more than keep the women from ripping each other's throats out, which, when the former goddess first moved in with them, had been a fulltime job.

Unnoticed, Lennox left the women to their argument and slipped into the kitchen. Going straight for the fridge, he opened the box and stared. He wanted a stiff drink. Living with three women was enough to send any man in search of the nearest pub. But, of course, this being Diana's home, there was nothing but bottled water, juice, and that damn tea she's been drinking lately. He slammed the door shut.

This was where Lennox got off. It was time he began thinking about next steps. After they found Zola's baby, Lennox had no intention of sticking around. He was no wet nurse, which was how he'd felt since joining Diana's band of misfits. Lennox didn't really do the family scene, although the women had grown on him. He was honest enough to admit that they'd carved a piece of themselves into his stone of a heart.

He'd had a sister a long time ago. She'd once owned a part of his heart as well, and looked as sweet and innocent as Zola, both blonde and beautiful. But looks and voices could kill, Lennox had learned that the hard way. Diana also had that sweet and innocent thing about her. She hid it well, and one who only saw her as Wonder Woman could easily miss the more vulnerable side of the young woman. Yet Lennox saw, Lennox knew, which was why he'd been so concerned about her as of late.

He pulled out a wooden kitchen chair and sat. Diana hadn't come home last time. She'd been moping around the house for days, and then she'd up and left last night, without a word to anyone. Now, at nearly eleven the next day, she still hadn't returned home. _And here I am again, babysittin'._

Fists balled. Lennox leaned back in the chair and contemplated what he would say to Diana when she finally got home. He lived off no one's charity, particularly a female. But he and Diana had had that discussion before. She paid all the bills. Hell, Lennox never even seen one of her bills or Diana actually paying them, but there was always food in the fridge, clothes, shoes and other material things for Hera and Zola, and the lights were always on.

But the Amazon had no real job outside of her work with the Justice League, which left Lennox stumped as to how she not only managed to take care of herself but a household of non-contributors. Not that Lennox hadn't tried to contribute, he did. But Diana had refused his money, an unintended insult but an insult all the same. _Her home, her rules_. While he understood the principle of the thing, he also hated when he wasn't the one in charge, which was another reason why it was past time for Lennox to be moving on.

The women would be fine without him. He would keep his promise and continue on until Zola's baby was returned safely to her. He smiled at the thought. Reuniting the little family brought surprising warmth to a man who couldn't truly feel heat or cold.

But he wasn't a cold, unfeeling man of stone. That dishonor would have to belong to Zeus, for only a cold bastard could spill his godly seed in so many women, and then abandon them to raise his half-breed children on their own. No real man did shite like that, but, apparently, gods did.

The door that led from the backyard and to the kitchen opened and Diana strolled in. The trench coat she wore covered her famous Wonder Woman uniform. Lennox bit back the threatened snort. Hah, uniform his stony ass, more like a sparkling bathing suit that sent blokes' eyes ablaze with lust. _Like that idiot Orion. If he calls her "legs" one more time . . ._

Diana closed the door behind her before moving farther into the kitchen. She looked happy, though not particularly well rested. He wondered where she'd been. _Or with whom. _Because, hell no, Lennox wasn't a fool. There was a man in this equation, and he had a sneakin' suspicion Zola and Hera knew, which made him, literally, the odd man out. He didn't like it, not one damn bit.

"Where have you been?"

Diana's raised eyebrows told him what he already knew. His tone was too authoritarian and the answer was none of his business. Right now, he didn't care. If Diana thought Zola and Hera were the only ones in need of looking after, that only showed how little the Amazon chit knew.

"Where's Zola and Hera?" Taking off her coat, Diana hung it on the back of the chair next to where he sat, her question just as imperiously stated as his own.

"Their usual spot, in front of the damn telly, doing their favorite thing, arguing. Now how about you answer my question? Zola was worried when you didn't call." And so was he, but she needn't know that. But, the guilt he knew his statement would elicit showed quick and bright in Diana's eyes. That very reaction was the reason why Diana needed Lennox. The woman was too soft and gentle by half, not at all like the Olympian gods she too often battled.

"It doesn't matter, I'm home now."

Lennox glanced at the lasso she wore on her hip. Even without its magical truth properties, Lennox knew Diana to be a woman free of lies, but that didn't also make her willingly forthright. Lies weren't needed when one, like Diana just had, tactfully avoided a straightforward question. But the time of his departure was fast approaching, something in him telling Lennox they would find Zola's baby soon. So he would push the issue this morning. He needed to push the issue, find out whom Diana was seeing and if the bloke was good enough for his little sister. If not, well, a stone fist to the face might be in order to send the scurvy fellow packing.

Diana sat in the chair where she'd placed her coat. She was such a beautiful woman, but so very young and naïve in ways of the world. In battle, Diana was wise and formidable beyond her years, but otherwise, she was still but a babe compared to him. She'd led a sheltered life, only five years into a world so different from how she'd been reared. An Amazon culture devoid of males and all that made the gender both extraordinary and vile. If Diana truly comprehended men and how most of them thought, she wouldn't walk around in so little and then be surprised when arses like Orion stared at her like the demigoddess she was, only rivaled in looks by Aphrodite herself. Not that Lennox thought that reason enough to excuse Orion or any other man for his sexist behavior, but Lennox simply understood men all too well. _We can be pigs. I just hope Diana was smart enough not to fall for one._

"I didn't mean to worry Zola. I'll go speak with her." Diana made to stand but Lennox placed his hand over hers.

"Wait, we need to talk."

She sat back down. "About what?"

"You know what. I want to meet him. The man you've been secretly seeing, I want to meet him." When put that bluntly, Lennox knew Diana would respond just as directly. She didn't disappoint.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that step, Lennox. It's too new."

Too new? While Lennox had no idea how long Diana had been dating her mystery man, he also knew it couldn't have been such a short period of time if Diana was sharing his bed. Lennox knew all the signs of a woman who'd spent the night with a man, the lack of a considerate phone call to a friend only being one, the undeniable happy lethargy being two. But there were others, like the fading whisker burn across her jawline, the red bite mark on her collarbone, and the scent of soap and shampoo Lennox had never smelled on his sister before.

Zola, Hera, and Diana had their unique scents. Zola always smelled of fresh citrus, lemon and mandarin, whereas, Hera reminded Lennox of classic floral notes of white flowers and roses. Yet Diana's fragrance was more woodsy in nature. It had to be her natural scent because, as far as Lennox knew, she wore no perfume and the soap she used was unscented. But Diana's fragrance was unmistakable – amber with a hint of patchouli. All of which was now covered by a masculine scent of sandalwood and sunshine.

"If you can stay out all night with him, then you can bring him home to meet your family."

Blue eyes stared at him, a bit of rebelliousness at his unusual high-handedness shining through.

"As you well know, Lennox, I've never had a father and I'm a bit too old for you to start acting like the one who didn't bother to raise either of us."

Diana was only partially right. Lennox didn't want to be her father nor did he think they'd actually missed out on anything having not had dear ole Zeus around when they were growing up. But every girl needed the perspective of a wise older man when it came to affairs of the heart. If not Lennox then whom could Diana turn to? War? Eros? Hephaestus? He didn't think so. Males they might be, but they didn't live in the real world like Lennox and Diana. They knew nothing of human emotions, the human heart, human fears of inadequacy and the need to find that special someone to trust and love.

Lennox held Diana's hand a little firmer. "Invite the bloke to dinner, Diana. I wanna check him out. Unless" —he released her hand— "yer ashamed of us or he doesn't want to meet yer family."

"You're trying my patience this morning, brother. You know I'm not ashamed of our family, strange as others may think us." She paused, her eyes shifting down and away from him, and then she sighed. "He has asked to meet all of you, questioned why I haven't invited him here."

Lennox was liking the guy already. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick his arse after all. Then again, Lennox thought when Diana rose and walked towards the fridge, glimpsing another fading bite mark on the back of her thigh, so close to her . . . He gritted his teeth. Yeah, he definitely wanted to meet the man who'd thought to claim his little sister, marking her body for all and sundry to see. No matter the blemishes would soon be gone, her healing metabolism superior to the average human. That thought sent Lennox's mind to questioning. _No human male's mouth could have done that to her. Her skin, while not as durable as mine, is far too tough, too resilient to succumb to a normal human's bite._

He watched as Diana washed her hands, grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with the tea Hera had made for her a few days ago. Interestingly enough, for all that the women shared, Zola and Hera never touched the tea. It was as if they'd all accepted that the tea was only for Diana, and the one time he'd deigned to pour himself a cup, Hera had snatched the cup from his hand and glared at Lennox as if he were cow dung she'd just noticed on her expensive shoes.

Then, he'd thought it was just Hera being her uptight, former goddess self. Now, he wondered if there was something more to the tea that his stone brain was missing. The fact that Diana was faithful to drink a glass a day told Lennox the drink, like her lasso and bracers, must have magical properties the women was keeping from him. And if Lennox was correct and Diana was dating a metahuman, then he knew precisely what was so special about the tea and why Hera had so rudely shooed him away from it. _Damn women._

Diana looked at Lennox over the top of the rim of the glass, a considering gaze that let him know she was contemplating his words. Setting the glass in the sink after she drained the contents, Diana turned again to face Lennox. "If I invite him to dinner tomorrow night and let you play big brother and interrogate him without me killing or maiming you, will you do me a favor in return?"

Lennox stood, not liking where this conversation was going. Diana asked few favors of anyone and only from those with whom she deeply trusted. In that respect, they were indeed alike. In truth, Diana and Lennox were a lot alike – independent, tough, fighters, loyal. And he'd once been as morally naïve as Diana, but life, as it so often had a way of doing, knocked that bit of fancy out of him long ago. Now his outlook on life was probably too hard, too jaded, which, all in all, was a good balance with a sister like Wonder Woman.

"For how long this time, Diana?" He knew precisely the favor she would ask of him. He wouldn't waste their time pretending otherwise.

She ran a hand through hair that was windswept and a riot, her blue eyes embarrassed when she smiled at him. "The weekend."

So, the mystery metahuman lover wanted more, one night clearly not enough to satisfy him. And, from the discomfited way Diana's eyes kept evading his, she was just as eager for more of her man's claiming love bites.

"If I agree to play nursemaid for the weekend, you promise I can ask yer bloke whatever I want and you won't interfere?"

"You'll like him. Clark's very nice."

Finally, a name. "Clark what?"

"Kent. Clark Kent. And, yes, I promise."

She was smiling now, all youthful, female adoration.

Clark Kent. He'd never heard of the man. It didn't sound like much of a metahuman name. _Maybe he's not a superhero._

She beamed at Lennox. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I already don't like this Kent fellow. When I see him, I'll let him know you're not his personal chew toy."

Diana's face turned crimson, probably the original coloring of all those damn love bites, care of one Clark Kent.

* * *

**Part 2**

Lennox stared up at the man Diana called Clark Kent. What game was the woman playing? Lennox was expecting some big-toothed metahuman with vampire issues . . . not bloody Superman. But that was who in the hell was staring down at him with muscles and height to spare, black hair glistening, blue eyes shining.

And Zola and Hera were drooling. They had been ever since the Justice Leaguer blurred in through the balcony door Diana had opened for him. The women were starstruck but neither seemed surprised that Diana's mystery lover was none other than Superman.

No, apparently, only Lennox was the one not in the know.

Always the gracious hostess, except, of course, with Orion, Diana made the introductions. Superman . . . Clark Kent was just as cordial, smiling his dimpled smile at the ladies and shaking Lennox's hand with far too much enthusiasm for a superhero who could bench press the bloody moon.

"So let me get this straight," Lennox said as they ate dinner, "you left a respectable job as a reporter and now you . . .?"

"Have a blog site."

"You _blog_?" Lennox frowned. "I have no idea what that even is, but it doesn't sound like a job that pays much, if anything at all."

Diana snapped her disapproving gaze to Lennox, but per their agreement, she said nothing. Lennox smiled to himself. He should make deals with Diana more often, if this was the result. A man could get high off this kind of power. Playing big brother was so much fun.

"I get by." Superman shrugged before taking another forkful of mashed potatoes and steak.

"What does that mean? Are you independently wealthy like Diana or do people pay you for your superhero services?"

Everyone at the dinner table gaped at Lennox, even Hera who'd never had any compunction about speaking her mind, no matter how inappropriate. He was being rude, he knew, but Lennox didn't like the schoolgirl way Diana looked at this Clark Kent, a.k.a Superman. If she wasn't already, Diana was at least half-way in love with her teammate. And while it was clear Superman was attracted to Diana, because, dammit, the Kryptonian took every chance to touch and caress Diana, Lennox couldn't tell if he felt the same for his little sister.

Superman dropped his fork, all the charm he'd been displaying for the women gone. That was good; Lennox was tired of the pretense. Superman or not, if the guy was toying with Diana's heart, he would have Lennox and his stone fists to contend with.

The red-and-blue giant leaned over and whispered something in Diana's ear. She nodded then Superman stood.

"Let's go outside and have a little talk, Lennox."

They went, leaving, what Lennox knew to be, a fuming Diana behind.

Once outside, Lennox wasted no time letting Superman know exactly what was on his mind. "She's young and inexperienced and I don't want to see my sister hurt."

"I have no intention of hurting Diana."

"Maybe not, but you clearly have more experience than she does, and a few extra years on 'er to boot."

"I'm not that much older than Diana, but, yes, I do have a bit more experience."

Lennox thought Superman would be more of a challenge. Not that he truly wanted to fight the man, but he didn't expect such easy acceptance of his concerns about their relationship. Diana, as far as Lennox could see, knew very little about men in the carnal way. And if he weren't mistaken, Diana had been a virgin up until a day ago, which made her emotionally vulnerable and open to heartbreak if the man before him didn't tread carefully.

"Look, Lennox, I understand your concern. If Diana were my sister, I'd feel the same way. But I care for her. She means more to me than you can possibly know. What we have is new, but I'm not a man to play games. I don't pretend to know where this relationship will go, but I do know I have no intention of taking advantage of Diana or letting her go unless that's something she wants."

Superman spoke with the same sincerity he'd heard time and again from Diana. His conviction was hard to ignore.

"So you care about Diana?"

"Yes, of course."

"And you know who and what she is?"

"She told me."

"And you're fine with that?"

Superman laughed. "I'm an alien, Lennox, having a god as a father can't be any weirder than that."

Well, that was true.

"We've known each other for five years. I admire and respect Diana, and I respect you for wanting to protect your sister. For so long she was out in this world by herself, her mother and sisters on Themyscria. But now they are gone and she has you, a brother she never knew about but one she clearly loves, respects, and trusts."

Lennox thought about Cassandra and the way their relationship had ended. It had broken his heart when he'd been forced to rip her murderous, manipulative throat out. After that, he didn't want another sister, didn't want to love and care and need the familial bond that seemed to come so easily whenever he met another one of Zeus' castoffs. Despite his stone exterior, Lennox, like Diana, was too soft of heart.

And he would leave. He had to leave. Men like him weren't made for the gentler side that good women and stolen babies brought out in them. He would go, but he needed to be sure that this Superman was as trustworthy and pure of heart as he was strong.

"She's special, Superman."

"I know."

"Too special for me, the Olympian gods, but I hope not too special for you."

There was the dimpled smile again. "I'd like to think Diana considers me just as special as I think of her."

Finally, there it was; the look Lennox needed to see. In the depths of his cobalt eyes was the same glitter of budding love he'd witnessed in Diana yesterday when she'd spoken of her Clark Kent. No longer hidden, the emotion of love fairly sparkled as Superman continued to speak of his intentions towards Diana. But the words didn't matter to Lennox, for words hid much, unless, of course, one wore a Lasso of Truth, like Diana. Short of that, Lennox relied on gut instinct and all the ways the soul and heart eventually revealed themselves through a man's eyes.

Superman's eyes were speaking volumes to Lennox, and he was listening. Superman did indeed love Diana; all but the actual admission was there. Now leaving didn't feel like such a betrayal. He would miss the women, but having met Superman and knowing of his feelings for Diana, somehow lessened his guilt.

Lennox extended his hand to the man who'd stolen Diana's heart.

They shook.

Superman smiled.

Lennox tightened his grip then narrowed his eyes. "I don't wanna know what the deal is with you and your goddamn teeth, but I don't like seein' bite marks on my little sister. That's way too much information. You may heal superfast, but she doesn't."

Superman said nothing but his cheeks did turn as red as his flowing cape.

"I'll . . . umm, keep that in mind. But, in all fairness, Diana left plenty of her own marks on me. Bites. Scratches. Hickies."

"Bloody hell," Lennox snarled. "Diana," he yelled, turning away from Superman and stalking back into the house, "please take yer boyfriend and fly him far away from here. And don't forget yer tea. The last thing I need is you droppin' off a super Amazon baby for me to babysit in ten months."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay in completing this story. I was bogged down trying to finish "Corporate Leaguers" that I put this story to the side. For whatever it's worth, it's complete. I hope that, in my rush to finish, it didn't suck too badly. Thank you for reading.


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